per diem
by Empress of Everything
Summary: fetish: noun 1. an excessive and irrational devotion or commitment to a particular thing. (Thanks, I hate it.) {Word of the Day series}
1. moira

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Moira: noun

1\. (among ancient Greeks) a person's fate or destiny.

}{

* * *

Sharp rocks dug into the base of his spine, but he didn't move. Icy blasts of winter air might ruffle his hair, beat about his unprepared body, and shake the red ribbon of her hitai-ate clutched in a bloodless hand, but still, he did not move.

The characters that made up her name ( _Haruno Sakura, such a small name for such a_ ** _big_** _personality_ ) were hard to see against the darkness of the memorial stone. Her grave marker in the civilian cemetery was no better. In fact, it was worse in his mind. She'd been reduced to a handful of strokes and the image of a cherry tree in bloom. It was a clumsy, cliché play on her name that she'd secretly hated in life.

She deserved better.

It was a common thread quietly laced through her too-short life, her ninja career, and even in death.

Now he felt like standing atop the Hokage monument and screaming it to the stars, to the entirety of Fire Country, to the whole world.

 _Haruno Sakura deserved better._

She deserved a teacher who paid attention to her and made sure she survived to adulthood.

She deserved a team where she could stand as an equal, not constantly be overshadowed by a pair of squabbling boys trying to one-up each other.

She deserved her childhood friend back. She shouldn't have lost her in the first place, over a stupid boy who never looked twice at a girl.

She deserved a man who would genuinely love her for who she was, not a boy who called her annoying and left her unconcious on a bench.

She deserved a team that would _stay_ , not the dysfunctional mess Team Seven had all too easily become.

The village, her beloved Konoha, had taken everything that made Sakura _Sakura_ , ( _the way her pink hair crinkled and curled in the humidity, her flashing green eyes that could strike fear into the hearts of even the bravest of shinobi, her enormous heart and love for the people of the village, the sheer ferocity she could turn on an enemy, her jaw dropping strength, the rough calluses peppering her fingers and palms, and the softness of a young woman hidden under that rough, brash surface_ ) and reduced it to a name, yet another shinobi registration number to be recycled, just another drop in the bucket of Konoha's great war machine.

 _And it wasn't fucking fair._

In time she would be forgotten, her name on the memorial stone worn away by weather and the passage of time.

Uchiha Sasuke would never forget.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Maybe someday I'll write more happy Naruto fics than angsty ones. But today is not that day. ETA: I changed this from a standalone one shot series to a multi chapter story. *finger guns away*_


	2. cri de coeur

_A/N: Listen to Just a Dream by Carrie Underwood while reading this._

* * *

}{

cri de coeur: noun

1\. _French_. an anguished cry of distress or indignation; outcry.

}{

* * *

His body had been returned to the clan, they whispered. He would be buried with full honors, despite having run away from the clan with his long-time girlfriend and joining the military, running off to war to prove himself. How well he proved himself was debating hotly among the less than pleasant members of the clan, since he died in the attempt. He might have brought shame to his clan but in death, all was forgiven. If his sins hadn't been forgiven by his father, the head of the clan, this would no doubt be one of two funerals occurring. Bowing to the wishes of his wife and eldest child about the funeral of his youngest was one of his smarter decisions.

The rumors that floated around the grief-stricken compound included the girlfriend, a pretty little thing none of them knew. They'd been _so_ young when he'd taken her away with him, leaving behind confused and angry families and friends. Barely out of high school, either of them. Now a shell of her former self, she floated about the compound in a daze, not responding to a word spoken to her. She stared at them with uncomprehending, dead eyes.

The same dead eyes as her dead boyfriend.

They feared they would bury her next to him.

The day of the funeral came, bringing with it rain and dreary skies. He might not have been the most beloved member of the clan or the kindest; that didn't matter. He was clan, despite what he'd done to them, the disgrace he'd brought upon himself and they would honor him appropriately.

His father had allowed his friends from the military to enter the burial grounds of their clan. One of them had immediately sought her out and she met him with open arms and teary, blank eyes. Her tiny hands clung to his arms like a drowning woman holding on for dear life. The man hugged her tightly, and bending, murmured in her ear for a few moments. A tiny, heart-wrenching, despairing cry was muffled in his dress jacket as he gently pried her fingers from their death grip on the fabric. With a sigh, he passed the mourning woman off to another member of the small squad, one that happened to resemble the dead man more than just a little. The first man took his place next to the open gravesite.

Not a word that came from the officiant's mouth was heard by the soldiers or the grieving girlfriend. It was mostly empty platitudes; they'd heard them before and no doubt would hear them again.

The sound of the guns ringing out the final salute sent a bullet through her heart and she crumpled, the arms of her friend barely keeping her upright. From the back of her throat, a cry of anguish forced itself past the blockade of her clenched teeth.

The trumpets from the military band sent chills down the spines of the gathered family.

Even more chilling was the high keening torn from the front of the group.

* * *

 _A/N: I cried while writing this, y'all better be grateful. I forced myself to watch military funeral videos. I cannot watch any videos that have to do with the military. Taps kills me every single time. (Even though I hear it every night at 10pm and have for the past 3 years.)_


	3. scrimshank

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scrimshank: verb

1. _British Slang._ to avoid one's obligations or share of work; shirk.

}{

* * *

Wildly roving hands forced her heavy red and white robes backwards off her hips as he grappled with the fabric. Sakura was of no help at all; she was too busy hanging on for dear life, arms tangled around his neck as a lifeline, legs hooked around his waist. He groaned in irritation, the sound reverberating against the column of her throat, and moved to tear the offending fabric. The damn hat had already been tossed with unerring accuracy to land right in the center of her desk, not ruffling a single sheet of paperwork. It was a testament to his patience that the robes were still in one piece, though that patience was rapidly waning.

"Don't do that," she moaned. The state of her robes were obviously the last thing on her mind right now, if the way she clutched at his hair was any indication. "They're…expensive and if I have to, _ahhh_ , get them mended, people will know what we've…we've been doing."

Sasuke's short, pithy reply, accompanied by a sharp nip to her sensitive skin, told her _exactly_ what he thought of her official robes. _And_ what could be done with them. Katon _might've_ been involved. Sakura's laugh echoed through the Hokage's office even as they vanished in the smoke of a shunshin, the silent footsteps of the ANBU right behind them.

* * *

"We _have_ to stop doing this."

Sakura's sleepy voice did nothing to discourage the passage of Sasuke's hands down her bare back. His rough fingertips mapped the freckles and scars across the expanse of her skin. It was a habit of his, normally endearing. He'd also learned it was a good way to distract her from thinking about the office.

She shifted, disturbing his roving hands, rolling over to look at him. "I'm serious, Sasuke." Her exasperation evident in her voice, she tapped his cheekbone firmly, with just enough of her infamous strength behind it to make him wince. It wouldn't bruise but it was enough to get his attention and show she wasn't joking around. "You're making my ANBU nervous when I mysteriously vanish every time you come to make a report. At least Shishou's excuse was her drinking she picked up while she was away. What's mine? Getting whisked off by the most desirable shinobi in Konoha to have wild monkey sex and ignoring my many, _many_ responsibilities?"

"You've been spending too much time with Yamanaka. You're not normally so crude." Secretly, Sakura had always adored Sasuke's disgruntled face; the little wrinkle in his brow and the teenest, tiniest pout that crossed his lips was almost too much for her to bear.

Sakura snorted and pointed out dryly, "She is the head of T&I now; we're bound to see each other pretty often. Besides, Ino's best feature has always been her bluntness. It's something I can appreciate now that I have to deal with so many ass-kissers." She sighed and rolled onto her back, staring up at the celling of Sasuke's crappy apartment. They'd done this often enough that she'd memorized the cracks running through the plaster. And that was the problem.

Sakura had an _entire village_ depending on her strength as a negotiator and a shinobi.

As she'd seen in her time as Tsunade's apprentice, it was paperwork, not fancy ninjutsu, that made the village run as smoothly as it did. She might've been familiar with a good portion of the village's active shinobi in her duration at the hospital but now, now she had to do _so_ much more. There were forms to sign, genin teams to assign missions to, the Council of Idiotic Elders to duke it out with, ANBU records to review, treaties to ratify, curbing Naruto's ramen intake, ensuring Sasuke didn't get himself killed because he opened his mouth and proved that behind the pretty Uchiha facade was an unsociable idiot.

She'd thought running the hospital was hard?

Try running the strongest village in the Five Nations while constantly being distracted by her sexy former teammate. _That_ was hard. No wonder Tsunade had turned to drinking.

"You're thinking too hard again." Sasuke's blunt voice dragged her away from her distracted thoughts. His hand snaked around her hip and pulled her closer to his bare chest. Sakura never had time to cuddle after one of their liaisons; she was too busy trying to find her clothes and hurry back to the Hokage Tower, afraid Naruto had burned it down in her brief absence. Being held by Sasuke was…pleasant. Even when her many responsibilities weighed on her mind.

Absently she lifted a glowing green hand to his chest, healing the marks her nails had left. Sasuke held still while she worked then moved her hand to her neck. "You should heal that since you're so concerned about the ANBU. I don't want to be accused of hurting the Hokage." In the darkness of the room, she couldn't quite tell if he was smirking or not. Sakura smacked his chest, just to be safe.

She needed to get up, find her robes, and get back to her office. But right now? She had an Uchiha to cuddle.

* * *

 _A/N: There, I wrote a happier one, with my all time most favorite thing ever: Hokage Sakura. And this one had implied sexy times, even!_ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

 _Also I'm trying to keep the stories in this series short, like around 400-600 words, but nooooo, this one wanted to be 800 words. Figures._


	4. gerontocracy

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gerontocracy: noun

1.a state or government in which old people rule.

2\. government by a council of elders.

}{

* * *

Boruto knew, because honestly by this time he really should, that entering the Hokage's office was always a risky business. He had no remembrance of Lady Tsunade's reign and definitely didn't remember the Fourth or the Third. He had heard stories from his father about binge drinking and a lot of shattered pottery. Which seemed to be a common thread throughout the history of the office; their purchases of pottery were frankly rather appalling.

Bolt had grown up with the Spring Hokage, as the other nations had dubbed her, in office until Sarada was old enough to take over from her mother. The Spring Hokage, the shadowy ANBU Commander, the head of the Shinobi Academy, and the Hyuuga Clan Head were all figures the two kids were incredibly familiar with. Sarada had been _raised_ to be Hokage; it was her dream from a very young age, a little girl's wish to be just like her adored parents.

Maybe it wasn't all it was cracked up to be, given how those said parents made Sarada's life miserable in her position of Hokage. As was evidenced by her near-constant breakdowns and rage sessions and destroyed pottery and training grounds.

Boruto had learned very quickly to keep his head down when entering Sarada's office. Less chance of getting a concussion via flying vase that way.

"I can't do _anything_ because of these old farts and their…their…their _plotting_!"

"Those old farts happen to be _your_ parents, _my_ father, _and_ the three strongest shinobi in, like, the history _of_ shinobi," Boruto pointed out. He tipped his head to the side, trying to read the scroll she had clutched in a death grip. "If you're going to kill someone, just kill your parents," he said absently, eyebrows wrinkled from the effort. "If you kill my dad, my mom will cry and I don't want that." He frowned, reaching out and snatching the scroll from Sarada's hands, studying it with confusion. "Wait, isn't this the proposal you drafted last week? The one that if passed would give the ANBU jurisdiction over purchasing their own explosives?"

"Yes, it is." Sarada's voice was strained. She was trying to bring herself back under control; the spikes of killing intent were making the ANBU nervous. Making ANBU nervous was never good.

"Then why does it say 'We won't agree to pass this bill until you give us grandchildren'? Isn't your dad still head of ANBU? I feel like this is something he'd agree to." It was a simple question, posed as he handed the scroll back.

Abruptly, Sarada's killing intent spiked high enough that even Bolt was feeling a little hot under the collar.

"It says that _because my parents are meddling old fools who need to retire already!_ " Sarada strangled the paper in her hands, nearly shredding it in her rage. Bolt took a step back from the desk, trying to put its massive bulk between him and the first Uchiha Hokage. "That's it," she said blankly. "I'm going to kill all of them. Uchiha Sarada, killer of god-like shinobi and a former Hokage." She turned flashing Sharingan-red eyes on Bolt and he tried his hardest not to flinch. "When I die, put that on my grave. Promise me."

Boruto edged away from his former teammate, frantically wondering if any of her predecessors had ever snapped quite so obviously. The office of Hokage seemed very dangerous all of a sudden.

* * *

"Really? 'We won't agree to pass this bill until you give us grandchildren'?" Sasuke fixed his wife and best friend with an Uchiha _Look_. Neither had the grace to look ashamed. They'd been on the receiving end of that glare almost continuously for forty years. It had ceased to be effective around year three.

Naruto just grinned and held something up. "We even had a stamp made. Saracchin is going to be furious when she finds out." For some reason known only to him, he looked stupidly pleased at the thought. "My little protégé, all grown up!" Naruto scrubbed at tears running down his cheeks. "I'm so proud!"

Sakura sniffed and stuck her nose in the air. Her blue nails tapped a steady rhythm out on the table. " _Of course_ we'd do something like that, Sasuke. She's the Hokage during an unprecedented time of peace, more peaceful than even my reign. We can't make everything easy for her. Kami knows I had more than enough trouble with the Elder Council during _my_ tenure. Besides, I want grandkids!"

"I'm pretty sure they weren't blocking laws going through until _you_ had kids, Sakura."

She turned, green eyes narrowing. "You really think that?" At his now cautious nod, ( _because questions from his wife were always so dangerous_ ) Sakura smirked. "How do you explain the timing of Sarada, then, hmm? And Itachi? Or Minami? I had laws that needed to be passed and Tsunade-sama was equally interested in having grandchildren before she died."

He froze, mind whirring at the implications, while Naruto laughed and laughed and laughed. Sasuke sighed, admitting defeat. There was no reasoning with his wife. "When Sarada kills you for obstructing the office of the Hokage and being a general busybody, it'll be your own fault."

There was silence among Konoha's ruling council for a long time until Sasuke cracked. "Okay but why is Naruto so invested in Sarada having children?"

The look Sakura sent him was so blatantly patronizing, it was appalling. "Let's be real, Sasuke. If Sarada is going to have babies with anyone, it's going to be Bolt. Of course Naruto's going to be invested!" She gestured to the blond in question, grinning as he nodded vigorously. "He wants grandkids too. Besides, they'd make such cute babies," she finished with a sigh.

Inwardly, Sasuke despaired. Konoha was being run by a twitchy, irate twenty-something and a pair of baby crazy fools. Kami help them all.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** This one wanted to be super long, too. It's another part of the Hokage!Sakura AU, just several years into the future. There will be a lot more of that AU in this series because I'm a slut for Hokage Sakura, let's be real. Please enjoy and review!_


	5. watershed

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watershed: noun

1\. important point of division or transition between two phases, conditions, etc.

}{

* * *

Rocks crunched under her shoes. She could've walked silently, not disturbing anything or anyone with her passage, but the days of always putting others first, always bowing to the wishes of others, _polite_ Sakura were long gone.

They had been buried with her team.

The flowers in her hand didn't shake; they were as steady as the beat of her heart, as the hum of the village behind her. She could sense the ANBU behind her, shadowing silently to ensure her safety. She didn't actually need them following her. The odds of her being attacked within the Village were the lowest they'd ever been.

Another thing she had her dead team to thank for.

Her knees creaked as she lowered herself down before the marker. The side effects of using her Strength of a Thousand Seal were many and varied. She might be aging faster than a normal person would and no doubt would be dead before any of the Konoha 12, but it was worth it for all the lives she'd saved.

Scarred fingers trailed down the stone, tracing the characters that made up the names of her most precious people. Four years since the day they died. Four years since her heart had been buried with them. But she'd rallied; she'd had to. The village needed her after the war. Konoha had recovered, regrown, and fixed itself. With a new era came a new Hokage.

A whisper of movement behind her alerted her to the presence of another person, one of the living.

"Hound."

Despite having such a huge character defect as being constantly late, Kakashi always knew when he was needed most.

"I'm here to escort my cute student back to the village."

She laughed as she dragged herself upward, every bone groaning in protest. The wince that crossed her face was gone before it came. "Not your student anymore, Kaka-sensei, and haven't been for a long time."

Sakura couldn't see his face, hidden as it was behind the ANBU mask and the other mask he liked to hide behind, but she could sense his smile. "Of course not, Hokage-sama. But I'm still here escort you back to the village when you're finished paying your respects."

With one final look at the grave marker, Sakura resolutely turned back to the village. Her place was with the living, protecting those her dead had given their lives to protect.


	6. gleek

_**A/N:** Sorry it's taken me so long to update this, guys. School started last week and I'm having a bit of trouble getting used to my new schedule. So this is probably not going to be daily updates, probably closer to weekly. Still, I hope you enjoy and leave a review if you did!_

* * *

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gleek: verb 1. _Archaic_. to make a joke; jest.

}{

* * *

"So what's this I hear about a petition going around about deposing Sarada because she's illegitimate and her parents still aren't married?" Was Naruto's opening line one morning, two years into Sarada's tenure as Hokage. Maybe it wasn't the best opening line ever, because the consequences of the question were far-reaching and bizarre.

"That's crazy! Of course we're married!" Sakura paused in her instinctive defense of her eldest daughter, turning to Sasuke with a hint of hesitation in her eyes. "We're married, right?"

Sasuke opened his mouth to answer her then hesitated. "I…" His eyes slid to the side, clearly running the last twenty-five years of their life together through his head. "I…don't…know?" The questioning inflection at the end was not encouraging.

"Well, shit," Naruto sighed.

* * *

"Sarada, Bolt. Come in, dinner's almost ready." Sakura smiled as she opened the door to the two, ushering them into the house.

"Hi, Mom." Sarada accepted the tight hug her mother enfolded her in with a grateful sigh. She heard Boruto clattering in, toeing off his shoes, heading into the kitchen and shaking hands with her father. Sasuke had taken a long time to warm up to Boruto, despite the fact he and Sarada had been raised together. His biggest objection to them dating was the possibility of someday being in-laws with _Naruto_.

But still clinging to her mom let her believe she was just a little girl for a little bit longer. It was still strange seeing her mother without the trappings of the office she'd held for longer than Sarada had even been alive, or her even being home. She could count on one hand how many times she'd come home after her mother growing up. Being Hokage was hard; being Hokage with her mother constantly either harassing her for grandchildren or not being around, saying she needed to learn on her own, was doubly so. She pulled back reluctantly. Noticing how quiet the house was, she asked, "Where are Itachi and Minami?"

"Itachi had training with his team, I think they were going to take a mission afterward, and Minami is spending the night with a friend from the Academy. They'll be back at some point." Sakura shrugged, unconcerned about the fate of her younger children.

"You never acted like that with me," Sarada pointed out with a hint of a sulk in her voice. She had to stifle a grin at the unamused look her mother tossed back her way as they heading into the kitchen. It almost made her forget all her problems in the office.

Almost.

"Hi, Sakura-sama!" Boruto waved from his place next to the stove, watching Sasuke finish up dinner preparation with avid interest. Sarada swatted him as she passed to kiss her father hello. "Ow! Saracchin, what was that for?"

"That exact reason. Why do you call Mom -sama when _I'm_ the current Hokage?"

Boruto gaped at her. "Are you jealous of your _mom_?" A sly look crossed his face and he moved closer. Neither Sasuke or Sakura heard what he said but the blush on Sarada's face and unconscious activation of her Sharingan told them enough.

The group settled in for dinner, pleasant conversation flowing easily. She hated to break the content atmosphere, but the issues Sarada had left behind still weighed on her mind. Maybe talking to her parents, who had decades of experience with shinobi politics, would give her some insight. Stirring her rice around with her chopsticks, she looked up.

"I'm sure you've heard about the rumors going around, about the petition to remove me from office on grounds of being born out of wedlock?"

Her parents, startled by the change in subject, nonetheless nodded slowly, glancing at each other in a strange way that piqued Sarada's suspicion. "Of course," she continued, eyeing them carefully. "I dismissed them out of hand. How could that be true? You guys have been together for so long, of course you're married."

Sakura suddenly refused to met her eyes, as did Sasuke. Both seemed very interested in the cracked, water-stained ceiling. "You wouldn't be wrong," Sasuke muttered.

It was unfortunate that Sarada happened to be taking a drink at the moment he spoke. Sarada spat out her drink, accidentally spraying Boruto. He winced and wiped his face as discreetly as he could. " _What did you say?_ "

"Now, Sarada-chan," her mother began in that appeasing, well trained Hokage voice of hers. The skin around Sakura's eyes was strained and the glass in her hand creaked alarmingly.

" _YOU AREN'T ACTUALLY MARRIED!?_ "

Her parents exchanged a look that said a lot in such a brief time. Years of life together, raising children, life and death situations, had enabled them to communicate on a near-telepathic level. ( _Seriously, listening to some of the stories Konohamaru-sensei told, her parents got up to some crazy shit when they were younger._ ) Sakura was the first to crack. Sasuke didn't do confrontation, while her mother normally just crashed her way through it, blundering about in embarrassment. She'd gotten better in her time as Hokage but still hated it.

"To be honest," her mother said in a sheepish voice. "We kind of…forgot to get married."

" _What._ "

"Listen, hear me out! When I found out I was pregnant with you, we fully intended to get married, made plans and everything. Then Sasuke was called away to deal with some crisis or other in…Kiri I think it was and the wedding ended up getting postponed. It wasn't going to be a big wedding, anyway. If I hadn't been the Hokage, we would've just had a small wedding at the registry office. As it stands, we just…forgot about getting married. Everyone assumed we were married before you were born. And after…well, we had three kids by then. What was the point?" She shrugged.

Sarada and Boruto had stopped eating a quarter of the way through Sakura's monologue. Shellshocked, Sarada muttered, "Well, I never thought those rumors would be true…" She gave herself a good shake, stabbing at her food with a little more force then necessary. "That really doesn't help my case, though. But I'm Hokage, right? I can probably just toss the petition out on grounds of slander. Did you ever have problems like this when you were Hokage, Mom?"

To their great shock, Sasuke's lips trembled as he began to laugh quietly while Sakura's cheeks burned scarlet. "I'm not talking about this, it was _all your fault_ ," she hissed at her laughing husband. "You and Naruto."

"The affair in Rice was all Naruto, I had _nothing_ to do with that."

"The Chidori marks on the floor of the damiyo's residence say otherwise."

"Did Mei ever forgive us for stealing her second-in-command?"

Sasuke looked up at the ceiling, pondering the question. "No, I don't think she ever did. And that whole fiasco with Kumo and Iron? That was Naruto's idiocy at play again."

" _I had eight drawers of paperwork to work through because of that. I didn't speak to you for three weeks. Don't even try to push this off on Naruto._ "

"Geez, you two _do_ fight like an old married couple. Just get married already."

Boruto didn't hide behind his girlfriend when fixed with murderous glares from his future in-laws, no he did _not, quit laughing, Saracchin!_


	7. afterglow

**A/N:** _Tried a new style with this one._

* * *

}{

afterglow: noun

1\. the pleasant remembrance of a past experience, glory, etc.

2\. the glow frequently seen in the sky after sunset; afterlight.

}{

* * *

"This just in: the Kage Summit being held in Tetsu no Kuni was bombed by a mysterious figure, suspected to be the Red Soldier, formerly affiliated with Konoha. As of now, it is unclear whether there have been any casualties. This just in-"

It was hard to tune out the drone of the television set. They had it always going in this strange future, this modern era. As if afraid of what the silence would bring. Like the monster from underneath the bed would emerge and consume them all. Her fingers dug into the leather of her suit. It crackled under her monstrous strength.

In and out, in and out.

 _It wasn't him. He's been dead for years. He couldn't have done this._

 _It wasn't Sasuke._

 _It couldn't be._

"Captain?" The flunky from ANBU watched her nervously. They were all nervous around her. The rumors from the last war still hung about her like a cloud of infamy. Stories of storming bases, decimating enemy forces with nothing more than her fists and a circle of brightly painted metal.

( _He'd always laughed at her shield, in his own strange way. She didn't need any more of a target on her back, he would say, her hair did all the work for them._

 _He had been punched for being a smartass more times than either of them could count. He'd probably laugh himself sick at seeing her treated with such frightened reverence. He, of course, held none of that reverence. And for that she was grateful._

 _They had taken happiness where they could during that cruel war. She was glad of it at the time._

 _Because after he fell, there was no more happiness._ )

With a shaky inhale, her thoughts were grounded, dragged back to the present from the mists of the past. She rose, all fluid lines and grace. The shield leaning casually against the bench was slotted onto her back, a movement as easy as breathing for her.

"Time to get to the bottom of this," she breathed.

* * *

For a moment, she studied her reflection in the mirror.

The mirror hadn't been her friend as a child. Always pointing out her flaws; her gaunt face, her wide forehead, her unnaturally colored hair, her waifish body. Always ill as a child. Always lagging behind. But making up for it with her incredible intelligence.

He had never mocked her for her lacking physical strength. He had supported her, carried her through life, been her best friend when she needed one most.

Until Sound had ripped him away from her.

Behind her, he was reflected in the mirror. Devastatingly handsome and quietly tragic in a sort of twisted, romantic way, he'd turned heads wherever he'd gone. She was his faithful shadow, always hiding behind him. Now, though…

The serum had altered _everything_. Everything except her bright pink hair.

Taller, broader, faster, stronger. She was a stranger in her own body.

She could still remember the look on Sasuke's face when he saw her again post-serum. For a heartbeat, she was terrified he would cry, but his Uchiha heritage came through. He'd simply touched a lock of hair, still unchanged, and sighed.

And that was that.

After he fell, before the crash, she'd accumulated scars that hadn't vanished. When she woke up, ANBU had offered to heal the ones on her face. Probably wondering if she was a vain woman who couldn't bear to have a marred face.

Sakura refused.

He had traced her scars. With a wondering sort of sadness. Mournful but oddly proud. He knew what she had gone through to get these scars.

And now.

He was missing an arm. Flesh replaced with cold metal by the mechanics of Sound.

What atrocities had he committed with that arm?

And why, oh why, could she so easily forgive him?

* * *

" _HE KILLED MY PARENTS, SAKURA!_ " Naruto's face, normally so jovial, was white with unbridled rage. " _He killed my parents and you're siding with him?_ "

"It wasn't him, Naruto!" She screamed back. With his enraged state, it was harder to predict where he would attack. Already a difficult opponent, rage only made him stronger. "It was all Orochimaru! It wasn't Sasuke! Blame Orochimaru!"

"Well he's already dead so Sasuke is the next best thing!" The blur of blows he and her former partner exchanged would have been too fast for her to keep up with, had she still been unenhanced. She hung back. Watching for the right moment to strike.

Naruto would never forgive her for what she was about to do.

* * *

They stood on the cliff overlooking the city. A favorite haunt of theirs from times long since passed into memory.

They made their choice. Come hell or high water, they would stand by it.

In the faint afterglow left by the sun, Sakura slipped her hand into Sasuke's.


	8. fetish

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fetish: noun

1\. an excessive and irrational devotion or commitment to a particular thing.

}{

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 _A/N: I have no idea what this is. Figures that after nearly a year's absence, the first thing I post is a shitpost. You're welcome?_

* * *

"Thanks, I hate it."

"Oh c'mon, Sakura-chan, it's so cool!"

"No. No it's not cool, Naruto. This is the worst thing I've ever seen, and I was forced to watch you make a fool of yourself last year on Halloween when you dressed up like a drag queen Jiraiya."

"Sakuraaaa…."

"No. I let you get away with _so much,_ Naruto. _**So. Much.**_ This is where I put my foot down. This is the hill I die on."

"Please, it's just a pair of ramen pants. Why are you so upset, Sakura? Let the idiot get them."

She fixed him with a steely look and Sasuke felt a tiny sliver of fear tap-dance up and down his spine. Sakura was chill and easygoing right up until the moment she wasn't.

"Listen, if we let him get the ramen pants today, next week it'll be a ramen tracksuit. After that, who knows? Ramen underwear? Custom ramen shoes? A ramen car wrap? Where will it end? I know your life goal is to become the mascot for ramen, but it has to stop somewhere. Consider this an intervention for your fetish, Naruto.

"Ok, but a ramen car wrap would be pretty sick, Sacchan." His best friend just stared at him. "And hey! I don't have a ramen fetish! I have a ramen appreciation!"

This time, both Sakura and Sasuke exchanged looks of incredulous bewilderment, then around at Naruto's apartment.

"Just keep telling yourself that, bud," Sakura muttered, kicking his Ichiraku slides out of the way. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

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 _{Fun fact, the ramen shoes, underwear, and tracksuit all exist.}_


End file.
